


Amas

by blua and oro (vehlr)



Series: Blue & Gold XY-XX - Mainverse [8]
Category: Blue Beetle (Comics), Booster Gold (Comics), DCU (Comics), Justice League International (Comics)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2320721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlr/pseuds/blua%20and%20oro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(love) - The trouble with the past is how present it can be - and how much it can affect your future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

Michelle Carter brought him back into the world. Michelle Carter is the single most important person in his life – past and present. But right now, Ted decides as he tries to remember which buttons not to press on the console in front of him, Michelle Carter is an ass.

He had agreed to Rip's suggestion that he help out in the lab. Their dry run had been fine, and he had watched Rip at the controls and felt confident. But Booster was now in the time-stream, and he was panicking. She, of course, was not.

“ _It's fine, it's fine!”_

“Are you serious right now? This is the opposite of fine! This is fine's arch-nemesis!”

_“Stop being such a drama queen!”_

Ted grits his teeth and readjusts his headset. “Shut up and concentrate. Where are you now?”

“ _1798\. Third time's the charm!”_

“Gimme a break, it's my first day.”

“ _Aw, poor Ted, learning to be a Time Master.”_ The sarcasm drips through the earpiece, but he can hear her smile. _“Life is so hard for you. So how far off the event are we?”_

He squints at the readouts, hesitating. Behind him, Rip watches carefully. “Uh. Maybe... okay, you're on the right day, just a little over six hours?” He glances back at the other man, who nods approvingly. “Yeah. Just over six.”

“Plenty of time to go over the brief,” adds Rip, and Ted can hear the exasperation in his voice.

“ _Oh, lighten up, Rip. This'll be a piece of cake.”_

“Booster, concentrate. You need to single out Aaron Burr, the Vice President.”

“His wife died four years ago,” supplies Ted, reading through the Wikipedia page on his phone, “but offer your condolences. And congratulate him on his daughter's education – it's rare.”

“Then guide the conversation to Madison or the Widow Todd.”

“She's a better target, he's a renowned batchelor but she's also lost a lot.”

“ _Ted, you are killing it!”_ crows Michelle, and he cannot help but grin. _“Okay, so I need to make this meeting happen by pushing Burr to introduce the pair, so that when Madison becomes President -”_

“She'll become First Lady and the timeline is reasserted,” finishes Ted. “How did this event get changed?”

“Not on the agenda for today.” Rip rests a hand on the man's shoulder. “First we fix the problem. This is a reasonably small one – most likely we were always going to have to arrange this. But some problems threaten the fabric of time – eradicating personal timelines and destroying the deeds of the people who disappear. That's when we have to do more than apply a band-aid.”

“ _And I am one hell of a band-aid.”_

Rip rolls his eyes. “Go and find Burr. Report back if you have any problems.”

The sigh is dramatic, but it makes Ted smile. _“Yes, boss. Over and out.”_

“So what do we do now?”

“We keep an eye on the chronal readings – this monitor here. If someone else is trying to change history, they'll show up on that graph. We won't know who, of course, but we can give Booster a heads-up. Of course, we can contact her at any time after the insertion point, but from thereon in it has to be in a linear pattern – we couldn't call her at the end and then call her at the beginning to warn her of a mistake. Once we become part of established events, we have to follow the rules.”

“Right.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I, ah... I don't suppose there's a guidebook for all those rules?”

“You should be so lucky.” Rip chuckles to himself. “There is one, but it won't exist for a good long while.”

“Huh.” Ted considers this for a moment before reaching for his tablet. “I'll make some notes for now...” He misses Rip's misstep, the silence that follows. How could he have known the significance, after all?

  
***  


“James and Dolley, sitting in a tree, being presidential and drinking tea!” Michelle skips out of the Time Sphere, all ready to congratulate Ted on his first successful mission – only to find an empty lab. She deflates slightly, calling out.

“Ted? Rip?” She peers behind the console. “... Rani?”

“Mish!” The girl in question bounds through the doorway, arms held up.

“Hey, sweetheart. C'mere.” She sweeps her up, spinning her around. “Having fun?”

“I'm bored,” she whinges. “Boppy's making coffee and Ted's on the phone. Can we go play with Milagro today?”

“Maybe tomorrow. Who's Ted talking to?”

“Some lady called Babs. Can I play with your hair?”

“What?” She puts Rani down, kneeling next to her. “Babs? Really?”

The girl nods, reaching up to pull at Michelle's hair. “Is that bad?”

“Mm, no. It's just... surprising, I guess. I never thought about – ow! Hey, alright alright, let's go and find you something less painful to do!” She scoops Rani up again, hauling her over one shoulder as they head back into the apartment.

Rip looks up with a wry smile. “Any damage?”

“To my hair? Always. The sphere's fine. The most routine of routine missions. Not even I could put a dent in that. Did we really _need_ to correct that?”

“It probably would have healed itself, but better safe than sorry.”

“How did Ted find it?”

“As good as you said he'd be.”

“But you knew that,” she teases, putting Rani on the counter. “Didn't you? I mean, you know me in the future, surely you know Ted too. He doesn't just... vanish from my life. Does he?”

“You _know_ I can't answer that.”

“Why not?” asks Rani, frowning. “Mish and Ted are gonna be married!”

Rip chuckles, ruffling Rani's hair. “Not at this rate, they're not.”

“Why not?”

“They haven't even kissed.” He stops for a moment, raising an eyebrow at Michelle who rolls her eyes.

“We are not having this conversation. Why are we even talking about this? Nobody's marrying anybody.”

“Who's getting married?”

She whips around to find Ted poking his head through the doorframe, confused look on his face.

“Nobody,” sighs Rani.

The woman smiles. “Hey, you. Good conversation with Oracle?”

He smiles somewhat bashfully and she cannot help the slight twist in her stomach. “Yeah. I, uh... I called her a week ago. I knew she was busy on a mission, so I just told her to call when she was ready. It was really good to hear her voice properly.”

“Cool.” She leans back against the counter. “So?”

“So... what?”

“You guys gonna... y'know, date again or what?”

He shrugs. “We didn't really _date_ before, you know... I dunno.” _Didn't really date?_ She almost winces at the connotation. “Why?”

“Well, if you're gonna be spending all your time with the Birds of Prey again...”

Rip folds his arms. “We need someone reliable to keep an eye on Booster.”

“Exactly.” She shoots Rip a grateful look before facing Ted once more. “I mean, it would be _great_ if you're here, but if you want to help them out then maybe it'd be better to set the tone now, and I can find someone else to watch my six.”

Ted frowns slightly. “Oh. Okay. I kind of assumed that... this was a long-term kind of deal anyway. It'd be nice to help the girls out, sure, but I'm not going anywhere.”

“Good. I'm sick of training you people up,” grunts Rip.

Michelle grins, offering Ted a cup of coffee. “Well, on behalf of the grumpy man in the corner – welcome to the team, Beetle.”


	2. Part Two

He is just about used to the staring. She is not nearly used to his face.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.”

Oracle blinks. “What?”

“You're staring, Barbara.”

“Sorry.” She laughs. “No, actually, I'm not. This is... unreal.”

“You're telling me.” He tilts his head, grinning as he leans on his hand. “Last time I saw you, you had red glasses and a much sterner expression.”

“What? Really? I thought I lost those before you -” She stops suddenly, the smile vanishing.

Ted, on the other hand, laughs. “Huh. Last time I saw you, I thought I'd made you really angry. Good to know I managed to pull back _some_ respect.”

“Oh, Ted.” She reaches over to squeeze his hand. “I'm sorry.”

“It's alright, you know. 'Chelle told me about it. I'm all caught up on my death.” He shrugs lightly. “But it's in the past. You moved on from it, right?”

“It wasn't easy, you know.” She shakes her head. “You were kind of irreplaceable.”

He grins. “Sounds like me.”

“Shut up,” she laughs. “Dork.”

“Nerd.”

“I missed you _so_ much. The girls have been going crazy about you, you know.”

“Dinah practically deafened me.”

“Serves you right for dying.” She laughs, and he winces as her voice chokes.

“Hey, I'm here. It's okay.”

“I know, I know. It's just...”

“It's weird, I know. A long time for you and no time at all for me.”

She clears her throat. “Sorry. New topic. How's Booster dealing with it all?”

“Oh, you know... she's getting there. I'm staying with her, so it's pretty real for her now. She's been through the ringer, to be honest. Done a lot of crazy stuff to move on.”

“Really? Like what?”

“I, ah... it's not really my story to tell.” Besides, he reasons mentally, she had been a part of that story – and he did not want to bring up that nightmare again. “But she's doing okay.”

“Ted, I... god if this is too weird, just say so. But... my dad's having a party thrown for him in a few days, in honour of all the work he's done for the city, and... would you be my date?” She throws her hands up, wincing. “Not a date-date, but a... two-friends-who-missed-each-other date. Is that weird?”

He chuckles. “Everything around me is weird,” he confirms, “but I'd be honoured.”

“Thanks. I'm not exactly enamoured with the idea of hobnobbing with Gotham's finest solo.”

“No date-date to take?” He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I've yet to find anyone who meets with my exacting standards,” she sniffs. “I'm a Khaleesi.”

“A what now?”

“It's – oh, it's this amazing series of books, Ted, you _really_ have to read them. Game of Thrones. Seriously, buy them on your way home.”

“You're still bossy, then.”

“Dork.”

“Nerd.” He grins as their food arrives, and marvels at how easy it is to slip back into their friendship. Of course there had been an awkwardness to their reunion at first – they had been almost dating prior to his final memories, though things had been going less than smoothly. But above all else, they had found in each other a wonderful friendship based on mutual technological admiration and a passion for off-beat media. He is intensely glad that, despite it being clear that there was no romantic future here for either of them, their core interests remained.

“So what's next for the Blue Beetle?” she asks, tucking into what looked to be a divine falafel burger.

“Not being the Blue Beetle, for one. Jaime doesn't need me hovering around like a ghost, you know? He's really got it all together.”

“I haven't really worked with him, but he does seem remarkably capable.”

“Exactly. I mean, I'm still... quick enough, as far as the tech is concerned. I can consult. And Rip Hunter's offered me a role with his team of agents. Looking into future problems, staying ahead of the curve – should be fun.”

“Preventing the next hero death?”

“As much as I can. I mean, there are limits, really strict limits when it comes to trying to change things, but... hopefully it'll make a difference.”

She mulls this over. “Does Booster do that? Try and change things?”

“She's tried, I think. I know she tried to change my death, but I was a fixed point.”

“Huh.”

He watches her over his glass. “Why?”

“I, uh... I think she tried to help me. I don't really remember it too well, but... now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure it was her.”

“Huh. _Interesting_.” He grins as she narrows her eyes, before stuffing his face – like hell he was answering any questions!

 

***

 

“Honey, I'm home!”

To his disappointment, Michelle disappears into her room as he enters the apartment, and it is not until he has poured himself a drink, settled into the now-vacant chair and gotten twenty pages into his new book that she emerges again. Ted raises an eyebrow in curiosity as Michelle regards the phone in her hand for a long moment.

“That was Gladys,” she says finally, and he is as surprised as she looks. “She, ah... she wants to meet up.” The woman smiles slightly. “I probably owe her money.”

“How long has it been?”

“God, years... I saw her once, not long after you... well. It wasn't a long conversation, but it was good to see her. Said we'd stay in touch, but you know me.”

He mulls the thought over. Gladys had been very dear to Michelle, almost in spite of the money. He remembers being surprised – and not just because he had not realised that Booster Gold, his best bud, was into both sexes. But it had become something of a joke, in the end – Gladys had wanted more of a commitment, more stability, and Ted knew that Michelle had not been ready for that next step. An acrimonious break-up ensued, and she had been practically homeless, living out of her agent's garage out of sheer pride. Michelle had loved the woman, once – genuinely. Ted wonders if she still might.

“Anyway, that'll be a fun adventure for tomorrow evening,” she finishes, replacing the phone in its cradle before turning her attention to Ted with a radiant smile. “So! How was your date?”

He rolls his eyes, placing a bookmark before abandoning the book. “Not a date.”

She flops into the couch. “Whatever. How was it?”

“It was good. Really good. She caught me up on the girls, we had a great lunch at this vegetarian diner downtown, _fantastic_ halloumi salad -” He stops at the look on her face, frowning slightly. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs, running a hand through her hair. “Just weird to hear someone so enthusiastic about a salad.”

“Hey, I like salad.”

“Apparently so.”

“What?”

“Ted, no offence, but you know you don't _have_ to eat salads all the time, right?”

“It was a nice salad! Besides, we don't exactly eat well -”

“There is nothing wrong with our diet.”

“There is nothing _right_ about our diet, 'Chelle, neither of us can cook particularly well and when Michael isn't around we eat nothing but takeout.”

“Sushi is healthy!”

“Pizza is not, and you'd rather get a pizza than raw fish every time. Don't deny it!”

“Stop changing the subject. Back to the date.”

“Not a date.”

“Did she swoon at the sight of you?” She throws an arm dramatically over her head. “Did she quiver and sigh?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Ted, I've just spoken to my most significant ex. A little romance in your life is a welcome distraction.”

He watches her for a long moment. “It's not... are you okay? Seriously, are you okay?”

“I'm okay.” She shrugs. “It's... a little weird, but it's – it's okay.”

“Sure? Because you're being weird about unrelated things now. Tomorrow evening?”

“I'll be fine.”

“Okay.” He stretches out. “I'm, uh... I'm going out in a few days. With Babs. It's not a date, but -”

“For her father, right?” She smiles. “Swanky. I've been trying to get on the guest-list for weeks.”

“Really?”

“Officially, sure. Unofficially, I respect the hell out of him, and I'm glad I don't have the chance to steal his thunder.” She chuckles. “Besides, apartment to myself for an evening? Means I can catch up on all the shows you hate.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “It's a Christmas miracle.”


	3. Part Three

Gladys is already at the restaurant, eyes closed as the sunlight beams down on her, and for a moment Michelle forgets every single argument they ever had. Sure, things had been turbulent in the end, but the elderly woman was without a doubt going to be heralded as a saint upon her passing. Pushing that morbid thought away, she straightens up – slouching had been a particularly tiresome argument – and slips into the chair opposite the woman.

“You're early.” She sounds surprised.

Michelle smiles slightly. “I'm on time,” she points out.

“Which is early, for you.” Opening her eyes, Gladys reaches over to squeeze her hand. “You look radiant as ever, petal.”

The endearment makes her smile, and she links her fingers with the woman's. “You look wonderful. Are you _sure_ you're not getting younger?”

The older woman laughs, a hoarse throaty mess from years of smoking. “Charmer. How are you? And don't try and fob me off with stories of your grand adventures with celebrities. I read between the tabloids.”

“If I told you, you'd never believe me. Besides, I'm not the one with the news that had to be told in person.” She leans forward, squeezing her hand. “What's up?”

Gladys closes both hands around Michelle's, taking a deep breath. “I wanted you to hear it from me, not from the rumourmill. I'm... getting married again.”

“Fourth time's the charm.”

“No, I... this time it's different.”

And the realisation hits her – Gladys was getting married to another woman. For a long moment, she does not entirely know what to say. In a way, there is sorrow – they had once toyed with the idea of moving somewhere where the law recognised such unions. That she had found someone now, in such a time of progressing acceptance... it was a bitter reminder of what could have been. But equally, there is joy. The elder woman had always deserved to be happy, truly happy in her quest to remain true to herself.

She rests her free hand on Gladys', smiling lightly. “I'm happy for you. Really, I am.” She tilts her head, smile wry. “As long as she's at least _twice_ as good to you as I was. At least!”

Gladys laughs again, shaking her head. “You were a godsend, petal, you know that.”

“I was a pain in the ass, come on. Even _I_ know that. You deserved better – and I'm glad you found it.”

“Thank you, petal. It means a lot to me that you're happy for me.” She leans back, looking more relaxed already. “And what about you? I know that Fabio boy was just a front, but have you found someone else?” The younger woman hesitates, and Gladys smiles wickedly. “Ah-ah, don't even think about lying to me!”

Michelle laughs. “It's just... complex. And unbelievable. And...” here she shrugs, “I'm not entirely sure where to begin.”

“At the beginning, petal. I'm all ears.”

“You remember when we last met?”

“Ted had just passed. I was worried when you didn't call.”

“I'm sorry. I wasn't... well, I'm still not great at keeping in touch. Anyway, it was hard to keep going. You know me, you know how I felt about him... I couldn't help myself. I went back to see him. Except that he's a lot smarter than people gave him credit for...”

 

***

 

She insists on champagne with dinner, celebrating Gladys' new life – and surreptitiously her own prospective one. And by the time the sun sets she is more than ready for her other day job – an appearance with Lindsay Lohan at a rather exclusive bash in Gotham.

She does not remember much else.

 

***

 

Ted would never admit to it, but every time Booster gets back from a wild night out he is secretly glad of the scratching noise her key makes against the lock – the confirmation that, yes, she did come home, she did not find someone to go home with. Not that it would be any of his business, of course, but... still.

Of course, that relief is eradicated when she falls through the door and somehow manages to narrowly avoid breaking her leg on the coat-stand.

“'Chelle...?”

“Ted! Teddy Ted Ted _Teeeeed_.” She rolls over the back of the couch and collapses into his lap, grinning, and he can already see how many drinks she has had from the vacant look in her eyes. “'M'home!”

“I can see that.” Extricating his arm, he looks down at her with mild concern. “Are you alright?”

“Mmm. MM! Gladys, Ted. She's gettin' MARRIED.”

“Is she now.”

“To a WOMAN. You c'n do that now in some places.”

“I see. Are you... okay?”

“Yeeaaahhhh... yeah.” She sighs, smiling. “She should be happy, y'know? She's good people.”

He smiles. “How mature of you.”

“'M mature! _Way_ mature!”

“Uh huh. Want some water?”

“Ted, would _you_ marry me?”

He freezes. “Wait, what?”

“Am I... marry-able?” She snuggles into his lap. “Not that I even _wanna_ get married, but... it'd be nice. To be asked.”

He strokes her hair lightly. “You kidding me? You'll be fighting them off.”

“Hah. HAH!” She snorts. “I'm Booster Gold! Gold standard 'n stuff. Not a wife. Never a wife.”

“Hey, listen to me. Gladys wasn't the one, but that doesn't mean – look, there's someone out there, right now, who's going to make you the happiest woman in the world one day. You _have_ to believe that, right?”

“Ted, Ted, Ted.” She fumbles for his hand, bringing it to her lips. “You b'lieve it, so I b'lieve it. There's nobody out there like you.” Kissing his knuckles, she closes her eyes. “Mm. Lucky girl.”

He smiles gently. “Who is?”

“Barb'ra.”

“We're _not_ -”

“'S'okay.” She pats his hand. “I get it. She's cute. You did good, Ted.”

“Booster -”

She sits bolt upright, eyes wide as she stares at him. “Do we have _pancakes_?” she whispers, before giggling almost maniacally. Ted blinks, before giving up completely on the conversation.

“Sweet Jesus, 'Chelle, you are literally insane.” He presses a long kiss to her cheek, before resting his forehead against hers. “One day, I'm going to remind you of this little chat and you're going to realise how wrong you are about _everything_.  I promise you that.”

She hesitates for a long moment, and he dares to hope that some part got through to her. But then she tilts her head and asks simply,“... pancakes?”

“No, we do not have pancakes.”

Her face crumples and she dramatically wails, sliding down against the cushions of the couch. “But you _promised!_ ”

“I'm going to get you some water.” He rolls his eyes again as she faceplants into the couch, heading to the kitchenette for a glass of water. Of course, by the time he returns, she is fast asleep in what looks like the most uncomfortable position ever. He watches her for a long moment, before chuckling to himself. “You are, without a doubt, an idiot who is going to suffer for this in the morning,” he murmurs. “But I hope you realise what's going on right in front of you before too long. I want to show you how incredibly wrong you are about yourself.” And he carefully picks her up and carries her to a real bed.


	4. Part Four

She wakes up to thunder and pain and blinding light.

“Oh _god_.” Her voice is hoarse, her mouth almost dusty, and it takes her two hours to crawl from the bed to the door. Ted is, annoyingly, upright and perfectly fine as she shuffles past him.

"Morning."

"Oh. Oh, no. No no _no_. Quieter, please."

"Oh, sure." He leans in before raising his voice. "MORNING!"

She shoves his smug, laughing face away with a squeal, following it up with a groan as her skull threatens to split. "Hate you."

"How much did you have last night?"

"All of it. All the alcohol ever made. God, _why_ did I do that?"

"My deductive reasoning suggests your date with Gladys might have had something to do with it. How much do you remember?"

She curls up on the couch. "Not enough. I remember getting changed in the back of a taxi with a bottle of vodka."

"Classy."

"Shut up. I was celebrating."

"Oh?"

"Gladys is getting married. I'm made up for her, I really am." She manages a smile. "Her future wife sounds like a real winner."

Ted does a spit-take. "A woman marrying a _woman_? MY GOD!"

She reels away, covering her head. "Oh my god, I hate you so much, be quieter! Yes, women can get married now, you know."

"Oh, I know. But it was worth it for your face. You told me the good news last night."

"Did I?"

"Yup. And – ah, you don't remember a thing, do you?"

She is suddenly struck by fear. "Oh god. Oh god, what did I do?" She shuffles to face him, watching his face. "Ted, what did I do?"

He grins. "Oh, Booster. Poor, poor Booster."

"Ted, please."

"Begging and everything, oh, _this_ is going to be fun." He stoops to kiss her forehead. “Poor Booster.”

“Ted, please. Please tell me I didn't do something stupid and embarrassing and _oh god please tell me I kept my clothes on._ ”

He gently hands her the glass of water and a couple of tablets. “I still respect you. Mostly.”

“Oh, _god_.” She buries her face in her hands as he laughs.

“Relax, 'Chelle, you didn't do anything. You fell over a lot, you complained about a lack of pancakes and then you passed out. That's it.”

She looks up at him, wide-eyed. “Really?”

“Really.” He looks honest, though she is still sceptical.

“Pancakes?”

He shrugs. “You were quite upset when I told you we had none. We still have none, by the way, I'm not making you hangover-pancakes.”

“God. I'm never drinking again.”

“I'll believe that when I see it.”

She grumbles under her breath. “Yeah, me too.” Swallowing the tablets, she drains the glass and slides further down the couch. “Ugh. I'm sorry.”

“What for?”

“Being a total mess.”

“A _hot_ mess.”

She glares at him, well aware of the state she must look, before continuing. “I can't even blame it on being upset, I'm genuinely happy for Gladys.”

“Are you?” She turns to find him watching her carefully.

“Yeah. Why? Did I sound less enthusiastic last night?”

“Actually, you were very pro-marriage.” He chuckles. “ _Very_.”

“Oh god, what if I proposed to someone whilst I was out?”

“I don't think you did. It hasn't made the news, at least.”

“Okay. Good. I'm just going to crawl into a pit of self-loathing and die, if that's alright.”

Ted rests a light hand on her shoulder. “Not really, but I don't have the time to stop you. I've got to catch a flight.”

“What? Oh, right right right, Jim Gordon's thing is later.” She tries not to sound disappointed. “Well, you're going to be missing out on very little, other than pitiful whimpering and maybe even some serious napping.”

“You gonna be okay?”

She smiles. “Don't worry about me, it's just a hangover. Go and have fun on your date.”

“Not a date.” He rolls his eyes, but she counts the smile as a victory. “Stay hydrated.”

“Yes boss.” It is a little sad to watch him leave, but she reasons that it would be less fun for him to babysit her whilst she recovers. At the door, however, he stops.

“Uh. Hi.”

Beyond him, the Dark Knight looms. She feels a sense of dread.

“No. I'm ill. Practically dying. Seriously contagious. Whatever it is you want, I can't do it,” she calls out, and watches Ted's shoulders as he laughs.

“The fresh air will do you good,” says Bruce, and it sounds more like a threat than a suggestion. “I need you undercover. We'll discuss en route.” He turns to Ted. “Need a ride?”

 

***

 

Ted adjusts his collar for the seventh time, and Barbara reaches across the table to swat at his hands.

“You look fine,” she insists.

“It's just weird. Like it won't sit right. I'm not built for ties anymore.”

“You used to wear them all the time.”

“The old me, sure. He had a fatter neck, clearly.” She laughs, and he smiles at the victory. “So your dad... does he know about your, ah, job?”

She shrugs lightly. “He's a detective. Pretty sure he knows who _Batman_ is, but by never actually saying it he avoids a whole different battle. So... probably.”

“Plausible deniability. Guess that's part of the reason he's gotten so far – he's smart.”

“Quick as a whip, too.” She smiles, leaning on one hand. “You'd have to get up pretty early in the morning to pull the wool over his eyes.”

“So.” He waggles his eyebrows. “ _Nightwing_.”

“Shut up.”

“Come on, you can't tell me that you're over him when he's over there and you're practically moon-eyed.”

“It's not – shut up! What about you and Booster?”

He shrugs. “What about us? She's still getting used to things. I can wait a little longer.”

Her eyes light up. “Oh! So you're finally admitting there _is_ something there!”

“Kind of have to, you know? I can't exactly deny it anymore.” He ducks his eyes. “I came back from the dead for her. Says it all.”

“Oh, Ted, you are such a... weird romantic,” sighs Barbara, leaning over to squeeze his hand.

“Life's too short,” he reasons, taking her hand gently in his. “Especially for us – for people like you,” he adds. “The heroes. You have to take what you can and hold onto it as tight as you can.”

She nods, and he rolls his eyes before pointedly staring at Nightwing. “Huh?” She follows his gaze before snapping back to glare at him. “Oh, stop it. It's -”

“It's obvious, and it's never really gone away, and every time _you_ look away _he_ steals a look at you. Just... think about it, at least. You deserve to be happy, Babs.”

“I _am_ happy,” she assures him. “And I don't need Grayson for that.”

He smiles. “I can believe that.” A shadow looms over him, and he turns in his seat to find -

“Bruce Wayne, what a surprise,” smiles Barbara.

The man offers a polite smile in return. “Miss Gordon. My congratulations to your father, of course.”

“Here alone?”

“Oh, perish the very idea. No, I'm considering a new accountant, Miss Grace Hamilton. We've been working on a pitch all afternoon, and I thought a break would aid my cause.” He gestures over to a brunette in glasses talking to the members of the Justice League who were here on official business, before regarding Ted. “You remind me of someone.”

“I have that sort of face. I'm Carl Lumber. Reporter for the Daily Planet, though I'm strictly off-duty tonight.” He offers a hand out and Bruce shakes it briefly before beckoning over his guest.

“Grace, might I introduce you to Miss Barbara Gordon? Daughter of the esteemed commissioner. And her companion – Carl, was it?”

But Ted does not manage to confirm his ridiculous alias, so distracted by the woman in front of him. Sure, the hair was a soft shade of brown and in a much longer, more conservative style, but not even thick-rimmed glasses could hide those familiar eyes. Michelle Carter, resplendent in a sleeveless ballgown that skirts the floor with a flourish, is vermillion with embarrassment as she greets the pair.

“Wonderful to meet you,” she mumbles.

Barbara offers the woman a cordial smile as she nudges Ted's hand to bring him back to life. “Please, sit with us a while. Grace, your hair is fantastic.”

“Oh – thanks, I, ah... I rarely get the chance to do much with it. Your outfit is wonderful.”

“Are we _really_ going to sit here and make small talk?” whispers Ted, and Bruce shoots him a look before taking Michelle's arm and gently leading her away.

“We would love to, but I _did_ promise the lady a dance before your father's speech. Please, excuse us.” And before Ted can even comment on the dress that clings to Michelle in all the right places, they are gone. He runs a hand over his face.

“Did that... just happen? Am I seeing things?”

Barbara cannot help but laugh. “No, he really _did_ smuggle Booster in with a wig. Sounds like their operation went to plan if he's here letting off steam.”

“Why?” he despairs, sagging back in his chair.

“Maybe it was for your benefit?” she teases. “A little jealousy to set you off?”

“But I'm _not_ jealous. I'm... confused and flustered and more than a bit worried about her.”

“Worried?”

“Well, she agreed to be Bruce's date. She's going to _dance_ with him. Bruce, he of the infamous two left feet. What favour did he do for her to elicit _that_ kind of punishment?”

“He's not that bad!” she laughs, and he leans back, chuckling.

“Debatable. But she's... I don't know, she's acting a little off. I don't like it.” He watches the woman from across the room, frowning when she pulls Bea to one side.

“Go,” instructs Barbara, patting his wrist. “Allay your fears.”

He leans over to kiss her cheek. “Sorry. I'll be back soon.” And he stalks across the room, trying his best not to lurk in the hallway.

“... he's _Ted_.”

His best friend sounds concerned, and it puts him on edge. After all, Michelle would never keep something from him unless it was important. And dangerous. Wouldn't she?

“He's your best friend, right? I think you have to be honest with him,” reasons the green-haired woman.

The hair on the back on his neck stands up, and he steps into the light, fists clenched.

“Honest about what?”


	5. Part Five

Michelle is starting to wish she had never agreed to any of this. The wig is itchy and she is still a little hungover, but more than anything she is tired of Bea watching her watching Ted. Bruce does nothing to alleviate her bad mood, despite their victory in the field today – he had dragged her along to the evening under supervision and had even cautioned her against any form of alcohol. She feels like a child, ignored and ill and constantly watched, and it does not take long for her to escape Bruce's attention and drag Fire out into a convenient hallway.

“What are you doing? Why are you staring at me?”

Bea folds her arms, glaring at her sternly. “You need to stop this whole 'being totally okay' schickt. Nobody is buying it.”

“I'm fine! Ted's back, and that's enough.”

“No, it's not. You _want_ it to be enough because you think if you ask the universe for more, it's gonna tear you a new one, and I get that because your life basically sucks most of the time. But if you don't talk to him about these feelings he's never going to know, and before you know it he's married to Barbara and you're hurting all over again.”

“You're being a little dramatic. It's just a date.”

“Is it?”

Michelle starts to say yes – of course it is, why would it be anything more? But the more she thinks about it, the more it starts to feel like the beginning of Ted's real life, a life without her. One date leading to another, ending with him relocating to Gotham to be with Barbara... and leaving her behind. With a deep sigh, she shakes her head, removing the ridiculous glasses. “What am I supposed to do? I can't just... he's Ted! He's just... _Ted_.”

“He's your best friend, right? I think you have to be honest with him.”

“Honest about what?”

The world begins to shrink very quickly as Michelle and Bea exchange a look, the latter resting a hand on her friend's shoulder as she slinks away. The former turns slowly, looking up at Ted's confused face.

“Honest about what?” he repeats, and she closes her eyes, a tide of fear sweeping over her. It feels like the beginning of the end already.

“Ted, I... I need to tell you something and I'm...”

He steps forward, taking her hand, and she opens her eyes to find him looking more than a little hurt and confused. “'Chelle, what's wrong? Did something happen?”

“What? No, I just...”

Her hands are shaking and her mouth is dry and her heart _hurts_ in her chest, but -

\- she takes a deep breath; Bea was right. This is long overdue. She straightens up, a slight smile on her face as she looks at him.

“It's ridiculous, it really is. Can barely stand to spend another evening away from you, and Bruce ends up dragging me here anyway. If I don't say it now... well, does it even need saying?” She takes his hand in hers, shaking off the fear. “I... I love you. Always did. But I'm not... I mean, I know Barbara's always been important to you and I, um... I'm not going to get in the way. Okay? You're my best friend, and you always will be.” He is frowning, about to say something, and the panic bubbles back up, forming words. “I, ah... I should go. I should really just...” She gestures towards the nearest door as she backs away. “Sorry. Have a great time. Sorry.”

Closing it carefully behind her, she takes another deep breath.

“Booster.” The sound of the Dark Knight makes her jump every time – it is a sound that makes her feel guilty, despite being completely innocent – and she turns to face him, eyes wide.

“I didn't do it.” It is a reflex whenever he is around – deny all responsibility.

He regards her. “Are you alright?”

“Fine. Never better.” She smiles brightly, though it falls flat as he rests a hand on his shoulder. “Okay, I could be better,” she sighs, before shaking her head. “I just... I'm just tired and I need some air. I'm sorry, I've not... I've not exactly been a very good date.”

Bruce considers her for a long moment before reaching out to brush the dark hair of the wig behind her ear. “Want to head back? I can authorise a teleport back to Metropolis.”

“I think it would be for the best.”

 

***

 

It is a short flight back to the apartment from the Halls, but in the cool of dusk it feels very lonely. Michelle automatically reaches for a beer, but hesitates. Perhaps drinking away the sorrow was a bad idea, especially if Ted _did_ end up coming back in the morning – she did not want to make things worse, after all.

It still feels too early to head to bed, but the prospect of whiling away the time with anguished thoughts of Ted and Barbara feels like a lesson in masochism, so she heads to her room. She sinks onto the edge of the bed, heart heavy as she drops her head into her hands. “God, I am _such_ an idiot.”

“Mistress Carter, what appears to be the matter?” Skeets hovers by her side, the ever-faithful companion.

She does not look up as she replies. “Oh, you know me, Skeets – just ruining my life one party at a time.” She takes in a long breath, letting it out in a short laugh as she pulls off the wig and runs a hand through her hair. “Actually, that should go on my headstone... do you think I could put the request in now?”

A slammed door rings through the room. All the muscles in her body tense as the footsteps work their way through the apartment and she stands just in time to see her door open as Ted – _oh, Ted, all out of breath with dishevelled hair and bright eyes and top buttons undone and where has his tie gone?_ \- blocks her only exit.

She steadies herself with a deep breath. “Ted, listen, I -”

“Stop talking.” And in one step he cups her face, pressing his lips against hers, and it is terrifying and perfect and she clings to him, hands finding that gorgeous crop of hair and losing themselves in it as her breath is stolen in the most passionate of kisses. She had dreamt of this; so many lonely dreams in that dead space between his lives, with so many scenarios and a hundred different outcomes. But this moment... this was everything and nothing like she could have imagined.

He pulls back finally, panting as his eyes search her face. “'Chelle, do you honestly think I would clone myself back to life for just _anyone_?” He smiles. “I love you. I really, _really_ love you. And I've been... I don't know, I was waiting to tell you in my own stupid slow sort of way.”  
She smiles, ducking her eyes as her hands slide down to rest against his chest. “You were sort of on a date,” she points out.

“ _Not_ a date. Not a date at all. We spent the whole evening talking about you and Grayson and then you appeared in this quite frankly amazing dress, and you _finally_ told me how you felt and then you vanished again. And if it hadn't been for Bruce -”

“Of course it was Bruce,” she murmurs.

“- I'd have had to catch a _flight_ back and who knows what _you'd_ be up to. You certainly wouldn't be here in my arms, which is not even worth thinking about right now.” He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her in close with a laugh. “It was never her, you know. I just didn't want to... mess everything up with you. I wasn't sure enough, and I'm sorry for doubting this... doubting _us_.”

“I didn't think...” She does not finish the sentence, but he understands. “Doesn't matter. Not any more.” She rests her forehead against his, closing her eyes. “Sorry I ruined your date.”

“ _Not_ a date.” He grins as she laughs. “What?”

“I'm not even _sorry_. Come on, Ted, keep up.”

“Yes ma'am.” He pulls her in for another kiss, soft and gentle as they both savour the moment. She feels giddy, a lightness in her that threatens to lift her from the ground, and she presses herself against his body, anchoring herself with him. _Finally_ , her heart sings. _Finally_.

“Ted?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

He chuckles, tiny huffs of breath against her lips. “I love you.” No qualifiers, just a fact that warms her completely.

“I can't... I can't even begin to tell you -”

“I know.”

“Ted, you can't die again. You can't break my heart again. Don't you dare.” She shakes her head slightly, the very idea tearing at her chest. “Ted, please -”

“Hey now,” he murmurs, hand reaching up to caress her cheek. “Don't start crying on me, Booster. Way to give a guy a complex!” She manages a laugh, and he kisses her forehead. “I'm not going anywhere and neither are you, okay? We're in this for good now. The Blue and Gold, like never before.”

She takes a shaky breath, nodding. “Okay. God, I'm a mess.”

“A _hot_ mess.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” she laughs, shoving him lightly before grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him into another quick kiss.

“Now, about this dress,” he murmurs, taking her hand and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

She smiles, squeezing his fingers. “You first.”

“You wish,” he laughs, grabbing her waist and hauling her over his shoulder as he falls back onto the bed, her peals of laughter ringing out through the apartment.

 

***

 

Later, much later, with only the soft glow of street lights piercing through the window, she traces idle patterns on his back with her fingertips and he chuckles, head resting on folded arms as he turns his head to squint at her.

“Having fun?”

She regards him through her eyelashes, smiling. “Mm. You feel wonderful.”

“Glad I please you.”

“You always did.” She rests her head on her arm, free hand pushing her hair out of her face. “Always. Even when we didn't talk, I missed you.”

“We were idiots. Still are, really.”

“Speak for yourself.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You were, literally this time yesterday, drunk off your ass and insistent that you were never getting married because nobody would ever ask you.”

“What?”

“You were so drunk.”

“Oh my god, you _ass_! You said I was okay!”

“Yeah, I was gonna sit on that one for a while.”

“What did you tell me to get me to stop sulking?”

He grins. “How did you -”

“Come on, Ted. You _always_ put me back together. What did you say?”

“I told you that someone was out there right now, who was going to make you the happiest woman in the world one day.”

She reaches up to stroke his cheek. “Well, you were right.”

“Damn right.” He kisses her fingertips. “Never said they were far away, after all.”

“Tell me more, oh wise man.”

“I knew. I always knew. I just... I didn't think it could possibly work.” He smiles sadly. “Our friendship is... you know, that doesn't just _happen_ , okay? That magic we had from day one? That's special. Worth protecting. And I didn't want to... risk that, and end up losing you if I did something stupid.”

She sighs, shaking her head slightly. “Ted, you're one of the smartest guys I know,” she says, “hell, probably _the_ smartest... but you're pretty stupid too. Life's about risks. Besides, something _that_ special doesn't just cave at the first sign of trouble.”

“Conglomerate. Kooey Kooey Kooey.” He starts ticking them off on his fingers. “Devastator. You pretty much hated me for a while there.”

“I hated _everyone_ , that doesn't count.”

“Superbuddies.”

“Oh, _come_ on!” She shoves his arm, laughing. “We bounced back! We _always_ bounced back!”

“Yeah, I guess we did.” He reaches over to brush the hair from her face again, a soft smile on his lips. “We are damned lucky, 'Chelle.”

“Practically blessed,” she agrees.

“It could run out at _any_ time.”

She bites her lip. “Mm.”

“We should capitalise on that,” he decides. “Right now. Just in ca- _mmph_.” He is silenced by her fingertips on his lips, her smile decidedly wicked.

“Ted Kord, you are about to get _very_ lucky.”


End file.
